


Electricity

by echoelbo



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: BUFF HIM PLZ, Drinking, Explicit Consent, F/M, He sucks, Lucrecia (who has slept with Vincent multiple times already: .......... I'll think about it, Magic, Power Play, Veld: Hey you should sleep with Vince ;))))))))), also Veld is bad at flirting, also no one told me Veld's hair is brown, and then making all of his own attacks fire and electric, anyways that's the entire reason I wrote this, but anyways his gimmick is making people weak to fire and electric stuff, he just makes everyone weak to him, it.......................... looks red to me, so I am training Vince in dffoo and lemme tell you, the entire reason, v useful when fighting Ifreet and v useful in power play ;)) but not in actual combat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 11:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15948767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoelbo/pseuds/echoelbo
Summary: She wanted to see Vincent's magic for herself.





	Electricity

The nights in Nibelheim are harsh, especially in the winter. The glaring white snow dims down to a gray under the moonlight, easier on the eyes but biting to the skin. Any and all know it is best to keep indoors during Nibelheim’s winters, lest they freeze and become food for the monsters roaming the area.

Vincent leans back on the couch in his room, frowning slightly. The cramped space has nothing on the other rooms in the mansion. It houses only a couch, table, bed, desk, chair, dresser, and a piano. The piano is shoved into the corner, to allow as much room to move as possible.

Unlike the other furniture, it belongs to Vincent.

Two bottles of alcohol sit on the table in front of Vincent. The owner of the alcohol has his hands on the table, directly meets Vincent’s with a wide grin and sparkling eyes as white vapor trails from between his teeth.

“You know there’s no better way to stay warm on nights like this, Vince,” he says, and Vincent sighs.

“I can think of a few better ways,” he mutters in return, reaching for one of the bottles.

Veld’s grin widens as he grabs the remaining bottle and walks around the table, plopping himself to Vincent’s right. He screws the top off and holds his bottle up for a toast with Vincent, who returns the gesture without looking.

Veld takes a swig of the bottle as Vincent opens his, then chokes as he lowers the bottle.

“Too fast,” he wheezes. Vincent nudges him in solidarity before taking a sip of his own bottle.

“So to what do I owe this visit?” Vincent asks, and a glint flashes across Veld’s eyes before the man straightens up and looks directly at Vincent.

“The higher ups are assholes,” he says, as if he’s imparting some divine knowledge onto his partner.

Vincent snorts. “And that’s news, how?”

“It isn’t,” Veld sighs, dramatically throwing his arms on the back of the couch and leaning back. His left arm hangs around Vincent’s shoulders, but Vincent doesn’t shy away. Veld takes another gulp from the bottle before sighing again. “Shit’s hit the fan after one of the new rookies messed up their first mission. Damage isn’t too bad, but defending the twerp is much harder to do when he doesn’t have a reputation with the higher ups for being a perfect li’l Turk. You know how it is.”

Vincent takes a sip and closes his eyes. “He shouldn’t be messing up so quickly.”

“Not everyone picks up stuff as quick as you, Vince. Besides, the twerp’s got talent. He’s young, too. Would be a shame to lay him off and down, now.”

“Perhaps.” Another sip, longer than before. The room feels warmer and a silence covers the two. For Vincent’s first few months being trained by Veld, the man had made it known repeatedly that he hated the silence that followed Vincent around.

He steals a glance at the angry red head next to him, wondering if he feels more comfortable in silence now.

A knock comes from the door and Veld groans. The door creaks open slowly and Vincent looks up.

His eyes meet Lucrecia’s and the two stare at each other for a short moment before she turns her attention to the man leaning against Vincent.

“I’m sorry, am I intruding…?” she asks, hovering near the door. Veld groans again and gestures with the bottle.

“No, you’re not,” Vincent says, nudging Veld to the side for space and patting the spot to his left.

Lucrecia hesitates before walking over and sitting down next to Vincent. She crosses her hands on her lap.

“It’s cold tonight,” she states lightly, not looking at either of the men. Vincent recognizes the words and their meaning immediately and lightly presses his arm against her side in acknowledgement. She glances at him and smiles.

Veld does not recognize her meaning. “That’s why I brought these!” he says, words heavier than before and eyes less focused. He holds up the bottle to show to Lucrecia. Vincent raises an eyebrow at his friend but Veld simply grins back. “Vince has enough for you too, dear.”

“What? I…” Vincent glances down to the bottle in his hands, eyebrows knitted. He looks at Lucrecia for a second before looking back at Veld. “I don’t keep any glasses in my room.”

Veld opens his mouth to respond, but Lucrecia responds first. “That’s fine,” she says, preemptively halting any argument the two may have. They turn to her and she reaches for Vincent’s bottle, pulling it to her and taking a sip directly.

She looks Vincent in the eye and licks the rim before letting the bottle go. He stares at her, only snapping out of it and pulling the bottle back to his lap when Veld whistles loudly.

“Holy shit, I didn’t think you’d do that!” he says, adjusting so that he can lean in front of Vincent. His elbow is propped against Vincent’s stomach, holding more of Veld’s weight than Vincent is comfortable with, but he simply leans back and lets Veld do his thing.

Lucrecia’s eyes sparkle mischievously in return. She leans in front of Vincent as well, hand propped on his leg for support. “A scientist knows they have to make do with what they have,” she answers.

Veld laughs, too loud and gleeful for the dark mansion they’re in, and leans closer, putting more weight on his elbow. Vincent nearly shoves him off but holds back the urge, choosing instead to glare at his friend.

“You know, dear,” he starts, grin wolfish, “those clothes look amazing on you.”

Lucrecia pulls back then, hands back on her lap and posture stiff. “Oh, thank you…”

“-- but I bet they’d look better on Vincent’s floor.”

The two stare at Veld for a moment, caught off guard, before Vincent gives into his urges and shoves Veld off of him and back to his side of the couch. Veld goes willingly, laughing at the rough gesture, and simply repositions himself to better face the two.

“Are you… hitting on me  _ for _ Vincent?” she asks, not looking at either of them.

“Hey, Vince is an awful flirt, and I’m his friend. What else can I say?”

Vincent elbows Veld for the comment, but Lucrecia is simply lost in thought.

“I think…” she finally says, “I hate the thought of my clothes being on such a dusty floor.”

“Hey, a scientist has to make do with what she has, right?”

The bickering continues for another hour, Veld making vulgar comments that Lucrecia flushes at but Vincent barely reacts to, and Vincent watching the two interact.

Lucrecia’s surprisingly open to Veld’s crudeness, Vincent notes.

By the time the hour is over, Veld is fast asleep, snoring and legs sprawled across Vincent’s lap. With a nod, Lucrecia stands up and walks to the door, waiting as Vincent places his mostly untouched bottle on the table. He pries the mostly empty bottle from Veld’s hand and places it next to his own, in an attempt to prevent them from spilling during the course of the night. He grabs a blanket from his dresser and drapes it over Veld before walking to the door.

Vincent and Lucrecia leave the room, quietly making way to Lucrecia’s. A major pro of being tasked to look after Shinra’s “assets” was being given a room so close to them, making it much easier to sneak into their room in the dead of night.

Lucrecia unlocks the door to her room and gestures for Vincent to go in first. She enters after him and locks the door behind her as he starts undressing, folding his clothes neatly.

“Your friend sure is… colorful,” she says, and Vincent nods.

“Most of the Turks are,” he answers. “As long as they consider you a friend, anyways.”

“So he considers me a friend…”

“Is that a problem?”

“Oh, no,” she says, undressing herself as he places his clothes on her dresser. Her room is much larger than his, filled with much nicer furniture. “I just didn’t expect him to consider me a friend so quickly, I suppose.”

Vincent hums and grabs the thunder materia hanging off his gun. He unhooks it and gently tosses it up and catches it. “Alcohol does that,” he answers, knowing that it isn’t the whole reason why Veld was so friendly. Lucrecia places her neatly folded clothes next to his and makes her way to the bed, laying down on it.

Vincent comes over and opens the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a condom and the bottle of lube before sitting next to Lucrecia. He places them both on the bed before holding up the thunder materia for Lucrecia to see.

“Do you still want to?” he asks, and Lucrecia nods.

“You said you’re good at making people sensitive to you. Show me.”

It’s an order Vincent has no qualms following, so instead he hold the thunder materia close and closes his eyes, focusing on casting the spell. When the last tendrils of the magic leave his body, he opens his eyes, notes how Lucrecia looks weaker than before, paler than before.

As if her body needs something.

He closes his eyes again and casts a different spell, this time on himself. He tenses as lightning starts thrumming through his body.

He tosses the stone to the other side of the bed before gripping Lucrecia’s leg. A spark runs between them and they both jolt, Lucrecia actually  _ squeaking _ at the sensation. 

He readjusts himself immediately, settling between her legs. He strokes the outside of them gently, repeatedly, feels as she tenses and shakes under his touch.

He leans forward, pressing his body against hers, and whispers in her ear; “Does that feel good?”

She tilts her head against his and wraps her arms around his back, pulling him closer. “It’s… a lot,” she confesses, voice shaky.

“But is it good?”

She shivers against his breath on her ear. “... Yeah, it’s good.”

He pulls his head back and looks at her, takes in her shaking frame and sweat. To see her this weak and sensitive excites him in a way he can’t explain, and he bites back the urge to take her roughly, to see if he can overwhelm her senses to the point of her screaming.

That would mean hurting her, and that is the last thing Vincent wants to do.

Instead, he plants a kiss against her forehead. “It feels good for me, too,” he says, and Lucrecia hums.

She strokes his back and he moves to kiss her mouth, quick and chaste, before kissing a trail down. He pauses on her neck, bites and sucks on it gently enough to leave no marks, but she still flinches regardless.

He moves his lips further down, stopping once more to kiss her breasts and savor their softness. When he takes a moment too long, Lucrecia bumps him on the back, urges him to continue, but he doesn’t move on. Instead, he uses his left hand to cup her breast and licks her nipple.

Her full body shivers against him and he hesitates for a brief moment before smiling against her skin. Her grip on his back tightens as he pulls away briefly, grabbing the lube and flipping the cap open. He pours some onto his fingers and closes the cap once more, tosses it aside before resuming his mouth’s position near her nipple.

He presses the two lubricated fingers against her entrance and she shivers at the cold touch. “Can I…?” he whispers.

“Please,” she answers, voice rough, and Vincent doesn’t need any more prompting. He presses a finger into her and works it in further, feeling her twitch around him. When the finger is worked in to his knuckle, he pulls it out halfway, starts working in a second finger. It takes longer than working in only one finger, but Vincent is a patient man, and Lucrecia’s increasingly heavy breathing is incentive enough to keep working.

He pauses for a moment to listen to her breathing before smiling and leaning up to press a chaste kiss to her neck.

He moves back down and presses his tongue against her nipple, closing his mouth around it and sucking hard as his thumb moves to stroke her clit. She gasps and tenses up against him, fingers clawing into his back.

He licks her harder, twisting his tongue around her erect nipple and curling his fingers. She spasms under him, clawing hard enough to nearly draw blood, but he doesn’t mind.

He uncurls his fingers, pumping them into her instead. He finds a steady pace and keeps it, undeterred by the choked out noises Lucrecia starts making and sharp pain on his back.

Her legs wrap around him and she tries to pull him closer, but he keeps her pressed against the bed. The two continue, each getting more and more wound up, until Lucrecia’s shuddering nearly reaches its climax.

Then Vincent pulls his fingers out, moves away even as Lucrecia grips him harder.

“Not yet,” he breathes.

There’s tears in her eyes and she glares at him, her body still twitching and breath labored. Vincent smiles back, calm but with a playful edge, and he reaches for the condom. Understanding arises in her unfocused eyes, but Vincent merely shakes his head, takes out the condom, and rolls it on himself.

He grabs the lube and puts some more on his fingers, covering the condom with it, before rolling onto his back beside Lucrecia and putting the lube down beside him.

He looks at her and smiles. “Come here,” he says, and Lucrecia shakily sits up.

“Why?”

He smiles, the white of his teeth barely showing: a predatory smile. “You want me, don’t you?”

Understanding flashes across Lucrecia’s features and she grips the sheets. “... You wouldn’t,” she says.

Vincent’s only response is the soft jerk of his head, a gesture telling her to come over.

She stares at him, looks him up and down before clenching her jaw and glaring at him.

He can wait for her to make a choice. If she decides she will not lower herself to near begging, he would accept it and go back to what he was doing before.

But she doesn’t say no. She grunts angrily before slowly crawling on top of him. He caresses her cheek with his clean hand.

“Lower yourself onto me,” he says, voice soft and even. Lucrecia’s glare deepens and she bites two of his fingers firmly.

He doesn’t react. Merely tilts his head up slightly, in challenge.

After another moment of wrestling with her pride, she reaches down to grab the length of him. He tenses at the touch and she adjusts both of them.

She slowly slides onto him, body shaking with the electricity running between them. Vincent barely notices the spell anymore; he’s focused on the tight warmth around him. He closes his eyes and reaches for her with his right hand before regaining enough sense not to dirty her with her own fluids.

He waits for her to take him completely. Once she does, the two pause. Vincent pulls his fingers out of Lucrecia’s mouth and wipes them on the sheets before returning them to the side of her head, stroking behind her ear.

“Up and down, now,” he orders as evenly as he can manage.

Lucrecia closes her eyes and follows the command only slightly more willingly than before, albeit just as slow in her movements. They pick up speed gradually, earning a soft curse from Vincent and more tremors from Lucrecia.

She grips his shoulders, fingernails digging into him, as the final spasm runs through her body. He claws the back of her head and the sheets then, toes curling and breath shuddering as she tightens around him.

The two wait until Lucrecia’s breathing is even.

“Vincent…” she whispers, now willing to meet his gaze. Her eyes are open and trusting, reddened around the edges.

Without warning, he flips her back over, taking his position above her and thrusting into her. She gasps but allows it, shudders once more as he leans down to lick her ear and whisper, “Good girl…”

He continues his rough pace inside her. She offers no resistance, the spell having faded with her climax and her body now heavy with the aftermath. She wraps her arms and legs around him, pulling him closer still as she presses a breathy kiss to his ears.

He comes inside her, biting down on her shoulder. She rubs his back, getting lube on it but not caring, until his climax is over. After his breathing evens out, he lays down on her, nudges his head against hers.

With a soft grunt, he pulls out of her and removes the condom, tying the end of it shut before throwing it on her nightstand.

“Feeling warm now?” she asks lightly, amused as he plops back down onto her. He makes a noise in response, nothing intelligible, and she huffs out a laugh in response. “I need to wake up early, you know. It may be best if you go back to your room.”

Her fingers thread through his hair and he groans against her. “Morning you can deal with it,” he mumbles, clearly ready to fall asleep.

“Are you sure you want your friend to wake up alone in your room?”

She gets an irritated grunt in return. She waits, lets the words sink in, and then Vincent groans.

“--can’t let him,” he mutters, eyelids heavy as he pulls himself off of her. He rubs some sleep out of his eyes before standing up.

She leans onto her side, watches him tidy up her room and put everything where it was before. He puts on his clothes last, seemingly ready to pass out, and Lucrecia smiles.

“Night,” he whispers, opening the door to leave.

“Good night.”


End file.
